London, 1999 Rain had been falling over Camden since late afternoon, turning the streets into blurred golden reflections beneath the old streetlights. The cold October wind hurried people along the sidewalks, hidden beneath heavy coats and umbrellas. When Isabella arrived at Alex's building that Friday night, she was carrying a bag full of snacks, chocolate bars, and soft drinks. They had been dating for eight months now, and visiting his apartment had become as natural as going home. Alex lived alone in a small but cozy flat. The furniture didn't quite match, books and records were stacked haphazardly on shelves, and the air always carried a faint scent of coffee and old paper. It was exactly the kind of place that reflected who he was. Over the past few months, Isabella had become part of that world. She knew his habits, his flaws, and the little routines that made him who he was. Being with him no longer felt unfamiliar. It felt comfortable. That night, they had no plans beyond staying in. No parties. No obligations. No interruptions. Just a stack of rented VHS tapes and an entire evening ahead of them.